Duplicity
by Birdie num num
Summary: Esplin 4966 has always been detached, but after years of being Alloran's master, he has become so close that he finds he can no longer draw the line between his own emotions and Alloran's...


**Disclaimer: **Duhr. I do not own anything K.A. Applegate wrote, like the Animorphs (who will probably not be appearing in this fanfiction, sorry!) or Alloran, or the Visser, Esplin or any other character who appears except maybe Alloran's kids (who probably will not be appearing in this either, so yeah, sorry once again!).

Might be some Alloran/Esplin later, letting you know now if you are squickish about Andalite/Yeerk master or male/male shtuff...

Oh and sorry, but I have to use "quotation marks" instead of the familiar little thoughtspeak arrows because for some reason, they are refusing to come up! Thank you very much!

**Visser Three's POV**

_(Ten years before the Animorphs)_

Alloran squirmed asI peered through his thoughts again.

"Aww, does this make him uncomfortable?" I asked, as I replayed a memory of him making love to his wife.

I felt his usual anger and (though he'd never admit it in a million years) hurt, hidden deep, deep inside of him. But he could not hide his emotions from me. If I'd had a mouth, I would have smiled.

"She had a lovely body, didn't she? Of course, it's probably started getting all grey now I imagine."

"Rot in HELL!" He screamed in agony. Then he did something he'd never done before.

He cried.

I felt...I don't know. A tinge. It was strange. I had never felt this way before. I had killed hundreds of thousands of Andalites and Hork-Bajir; males, females, and children alike, but I had never felt this way before.

I felt guilty.

I shook it off, telling myself I was merely feeling his emotions because I was attached to his mind. But I had never felt such intensity of emotion, such despair, so closely, and it frightened me.

"Yes, poor baby! Cry! cry like an aristh who misses his mother!"

I just taunted him, I guess, afraid he would feel it too, my guilt.

And to some level, I knew he did.

One thing for sure was I had never reduced an Andalite warrior to crying before and the idea that it could be done both thrilled me and...horriffied me?

I went to feed, even though i'd fed only two days ago, and kept trying to put other things in my mind as I swam through the pool, Alloran locked up. But I kept imagining what was happening to him now, his arms and legs and tail locked tightly, and only his thoughts to occupy him...

What bothered me most was i kept thinking 'Did they lock his tail tightly enough?'

Yeerks do not believing in feeling things like love and pity and kindness. Those things are not pertinent to the survival of the empire, and to feel them is treason. To do anything that does not benefit the empire and to do something directly harmful to the empire, like setting a host free, is treason and is punishable by gruesome death.

I finished feeding, not really hungry in the first place, as soon as I had collected myself. I felt hard enough inside again to face him. I didn't know what had come over me in the first place. He was my slave - nothing more.

'Nothing less.' My mind threw out.

'What is that supposed to mean?' I snapped at it.

'Nothing.' It feigned innocence.

'Then shut up.' I bristled.

Great, now I was arguing with myself.

I entered Alloran's head. His most recent memory; being dragged out of the ramonite cage he had been in and onto the dock, immediately floated up to me. What struck me most was how he had not even bothered to move his legs - he just let them drag him.

I felt angry at the Hork - Bajir, my minions.

Why? Why did I hate them suddenly for dragging him?

Then I realized I really just hated myself.

Work passed slowly that day. I was still only Visser Thirteen despite that I had managed to get an Andalite host. But I felt sure of promotion soon.

The word came - I was to report to the Council of Thirteen to be promoted. To Visser Five!

I felt so excited and I had to laugh, knowing that Vissers Twelve through Six probably hated me now. Here I was, with an Andalite host and invaluable information about their military tactics and getting promoted before they did, above them! I was skipping about eight promotions!

Elated, I went to prepare myself. I wanted my body to look it's best.

Alloran said nothing as we were groomed. He was gone - dead. He got like this a lot. He would be quiet and say nothing, merely gaze through eyes that were no longer his.

I looked in the mirror. We looked incredible. He was still fairly young - only about forty one.

I'd already owned him for about eleven years.

Eleven years of his life, gone.

I did really wonder what had happened to his wife, Jahar. His son and daughter as well. His son would be...what? Andalite years...twelve now. Training in the military as an Aristh? Was I going to fight his son someday? Part of me hoped so. The other part, that small, strange part, probably some part of Alloran crushing into me, imagined a young Aristh looking out the window of an Aristh's quarters wondering where his father was and hoping to someday free him. And his daughter? A long time ago, she would have been married off at that age. But nowadays, she would go to school, live a quiet life. Marry someone later in her life and have the limit of two children; one a son, one a daughter, and Alloran's line would carry on and on and on...

"I see you will not be satisfied until I am insane." Alloran's words surprised me.

"I...I was only..." Why was I defending myself to him?

"Shut up." I hissed. But he watched me, curiously now. As if he sensed something...changing...no, breaking in me.

No. I was not breaking! A Visser did NOT break. Especially Visser Five!

"Just be silent!" I snapped again. "I don't have time for your disobedience today!"

I hurried along the passage before a Hork - Bajir could even tell me it was time.

The ceremony went well. Alloran was silent, glaring and hating all the other Vissers through my eyes.

Which was fine with me. I hated them too. That was the one thing Alloran and I shared; a hatred for all other Yeerks.

I knew, I could just see them plotting for my life! I knew they were all planning how they would kill me and take my place. That was the one problem with being promoted. You never knew for how long in this empire you might get to enjoy your new position. I had to laugh at the irony: The Andalites were much more stable in government - much better organized than we were, and yet, for all our instability, we were winning over them. It was very, very amusing. I felt something I do not feel very often; a pride for my species. True, we were little slugs in the mud in our natural form, but we had become the lords of the galaxy and soon, the Andalites would all be our slaves.

Yes, they would all be our slaves, including Jahar, and little...what was her name...Tierza? And if he lived...little Elstharon too...

And that's when his hatred grew up for me too again, and our little kinship of external hatred disappeared.

Review people!


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